That picture... it went through me like a fucking hunting knife in the chest, every time I looked at it. Along with the memories it represented. Why was it still on my phone after three years? Well, because I regularly jerked off to it, that's why. Yeah, the surrounding memories were painful. But the picture itself -- the way Elise rises naked out of the swimming pool like a Goddess, confidently displaying her big beautiful body, water streaming off her gigantic ass, framed in a halo of late afternoon sunlight that catches the reddish tinge in her brown hair -- nothing else did it for me like that.
* * *
The picture was taken on a Saturday afternoon in July. Sandy had invited over her friend and office-mate Drew from the insurance firm where she worked, and he brought Elise. I'd met Drew a few times before, but Elise I guess was his new girlfriend. I was doing pretty well at my IT job, and we'd been able to afford a cute little house in a conveniently located neighborhood -- pretty sweet for a couple still in our twenties. A major selling point was the in-ground pool in the backyard. We often invited friends over on summer weekends for a barbecue and swimming. That day was no exception.
My name is Dan Tremblay. I'm skinny, average height, dark hair and eyes, with a beard. Not exactly leading-man handsome, but not butt-ugly either. I'm of Italian and French-Canadian background, lapsed Catholic. My wife Sandy... well, to understand her, let's just say she was a Ten. Or what I had been socialized to believe was a Ten. Blue eyes, retroussé nose, perfect teeth, flat stomach, tight ass, long legs, cute little a-cup tits. And Sandy's hair was... wait for it... sandy-colored. WASP family background. We met in college. I was the geek who helped her through stats class. Somehow, to my surprise, that turned into a dating relationship, which eventually turned into marriage. I got used to having a girlfriend, then wife, that other guys drooled over. But I told myself that Sandy had chosen to be with me when she could have had any guy she wanted, so I had nothing to be insecure about.
* * *
But back to that Saturday afternoon. And Elise. Drew arrived already wearing his swim trunks, but Elise used our bathroom to change. She emerged wearing an emerald-green one-piece. My heart did a back-flip.
Before Sandy, I guess my attraction had tended to run to somewhat fuller-figured woman; but I had been a kid back then, with very little sexual experience and unformed preferences. Then came seven years of Sandy. I had never thought of really fat women as attractive before. Elise was unquestionably in that category. The really fat category. And the attractive category. Something about the way she carried herself radiated a kind of sexiness that Sandy, for all her Ten-ness, couldn't hold a candle to. Tits like two watermelons resting on a big soft belly, and an ass the size of two football fields. These were things, I suddenly realized, that appealed to me very much indeed. I imagined what it would be like cuddling up to all that softness, compared to Sandy's bony angularity. Then I noticed some curls of dark hair escaping from the thigh-holes of her swimsuit. There was no hiding the fact that she had a full bush situation going on under that one-piece. The fluffy volume of it was evident beneath the fabric, opaque though it was. I don't know exactly why that detail grabbed my erotic imagination, but it did. My heart did a double-gainer jackknife reverse twist. Sandy meticulously shaved her pussy bald. It was what guys are supposed to want, right?
But I was married, and I was, I like to think, a decent human being. So I struggled to contain my sudden and completely unexpected lust for Elise, to not act like a creep. I tried to keep my eyes off her, to think about other things. On initially seeing her in that tight green swimsuit, I had popped a full-metal-jacket boner, but I tried to keep it hidden behind my towel, or facing away from the others. Once I was in the pool, the cold water helped shrink it back down. I was OK as long as I could avoid looking at Elise, or imagining her in my mind. It was difficult, but I gave it all my effort. I kept my eyes on Sandy as much as possible.
After a bit of hanging out in the water, we shared a joint, and that made us hungry. I got to work barbecuing the ribs, while the others went into the kitchen to get the salads and sides ready. Soon we sat down to eat. And drink. Drew and Sandy were having margaritas, with frequent refills; I stuck to my beer, which I nursed slowly; Elise also went slow with a glass of white wine.
Sitting at the picnic table, my crotch was safely hidden from view, and I cautiously ventured to look at Elise again, just from the neck up, not wanting to appear unfriendly and standoffish. Damn, she had a radiant smile, accompanied by an earthy, playful open-hearted belly-laugh, that were just as sexy as the rest of her. The boner came back.
Why couldn't I have met this woman before marrying Sandy? Stop it! Don't think that way, you turd! Sandy's your wife, for fuck's sake.
Elise raised her arm to reach for the salad dressing and I saw her armpits were unshaven too.
Fuck, I'm doomed.
Meanwhile, those margaritas started to take effect: Drew and Sandy were now laughing loudly at everything and slurring their speech. There was a platter of ribs -- or what remained of them after we had eaten -- on the table, swimming in greasy barbecue sauce, and Drew managed to up-end the whole thing onto his lap. His swim trunks were now drenched with grease. He looked down at his crotch helplessly.
"Now whad'm I spose ta do?"
"Take it OFF!" shriek-giggled Sandy.
"N' whad'm I gun put on 'stead?"
"Nothin! C'mon guys, naked par-tay! Woo-hoo!" Sandy swiftly pulled off her bikini top and wriggled out of her bottom. Drew followed suit. Or rather, followed with no suit. He used the edge of the tablecloth to wipe the grease off his crotch. Fortunately, there's a privacy wall in our backyard.
"Dan, why you still got tha' goddam swiss, tha' swissuit on?" Sandy reproached me. "C'mon, s'a naked party."
Sandy had been through a lot of stress lately with her mother's breast cancer scare; this was the first time in a while that she was really cutting loose, so I figured I ought to be supportive, let her have fun, not shut her down like a dour Puritan. I pulled off my trunks and joined the naked party.
"C'mon Elise," Sandy whooped, "you too. We all frenz here. 'Nless you're 'mbarrassed about y'r weight or sumth'n."
"Hey, there's no call for a remark like that," I said sharply to Sandy. "Sorry Elise, she didn't mean that. Too many margaritas, you know. You do whatever you're comfortable with."
"Mmm, I kinda like the idea of a naked party," Elise grinned at me. And that emerald-green swimsuit quickly came off her body and got tossed on the lawn.
Oh.
My.
God.
The shape of her, the heft of her, the bounce and jiggle and ripple of her supersized body forever imprinted themselves on my brain.
And I had been right about the bush. Untamed wilderness. Utterly glorious.
I now had a hard-on the size of the Empire State Building, or that's what it felt like anyway. Hoping Sandy and Drew were too drunk to notice, and that Elise was too polite to say anything, I got up from the table and ran as fast as I could to the swimming pool and plunged back in. This time though the cold water didn't do the trick.
